


In which Eridan figures sex is an adequate punishment

by turntechCrackhead



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blood, Bulges and Nooks (Homestuck), Caliginous-Flushed Vacillation, Crying, Dirty Talk, First Time, Light Bondage, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vibrators, but like barely, but thats not really the focus, noncon elements if you squint, there is no aftercare written bruh i am so tired already
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:22:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25065355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turntechCrackhead/pseuds/turntechCrackhead
Summary: Karkat, being the little shit he is, corrects Eridan on a grammar error. They end up arguing. They end up fucking.
Relationships: Eridan Ampora/Karkat Vantas
Kudos: 45





	In which Eridan figures sex is an adequate punishment

**Author's Note:**

> god please dont judge this entire thing by the description bro it was written at 1 am and the story was not. anyway uh the concept of this literally came to me in a dream so here it is on virtual paper

“Perhaps this,”

You tighten the rope fastening his hands to the chair.

“Will teach you,”

You grab his chin and yank it to the side so he’s forced to keep eye contact with you, crouching down so you’re at his level.

“Not to fucking disrespect your superiors.”

He spits in your face and you recoil, wiping red tinted saliva off with a snarl. He’s a bitch, he’s a mutant, he’s a disgrace to Alterniakind, and now, for once, you have him in your clutches.

The two of you had been arguing after Karkat made the mistake of correcting you on a grammar error. Desperate to regain control of the situation, you’d turned the argument around on him with enough irrelevant counterpoints that, eventually, neither of you had remembered what the quarrel was about in the first place. What you did know, though, was he’d pissed you off, and you were going to put the runt in his place. Hence your tying of his arms and legs to a chair in your respiteblock.

“Let me go, you asshat!” 

The indignant mutant struggles to loosen his bounds, to no avail. He keeps furious eye contact with you, seething with rage.

“Kar,” you begin, in as smug a tone as you can manage whilst dragging a gentle claw down his jawline, “Don’t act like you’re not into this.”

“Shut up.”

“Are you going to try and make me?”

You turn the digit around and dig into his cheek with the prongs of the ring on your finger, drawing droplets of blood from the soft skin. His quiet growling only grows louder, contradictory to the pink flush spreading on his face at your comment. Gog, what a disgusting blood color. He doesn’t say anything more, save for the boatload of insults he’s hurling at you with the look in his eyes.

You shuffle so you’re kneeling on the floor in front of him, and the smirk that follows makes you want to claw it off of his face. 

“You’re going to punish me with head? I’m petrified,” he chuckles above you. Your eyelid twitches in annoyance.

You reach to your side, open your desk drawer, and pull out the toy you’d bought just last week. These weren’t your ideal circumstances for its first usage, but you weren’t about to complain. Karkat’s eyebrows raise just slightly when he sees it, his smirk unfaltering. You set it down, just for a moment, while you set to undoing the zipper on Karkat’s jeans. You can already feel his bulge, unsheathed and searching for something to grip onto through the two thin layers of fabric. 

“I’d get this done a lot faster if you’d let me use my hands, fucka- ahh-” he’s cut off by a gasp when you start palming and pinching his bulge through his boxers. He’s easy to take apart if you know how to do it.

You pull his jeans down to bunch around his ankles along with his undergarments in one swift movement, sending a shiver through the shorter troll’s body as he adjusts to the sudden cold of the ship. It’s never really been kept heated, but then again, you usually don’t have lowblood scum hanging around your place.

Karkat is already making a mess of your floor. You decide not to waste any more time and pick up the toy next to you. You turn it on. 

“Ever used a vibrating wand before?” you ask, watching him scoff and deciding instantly that the next words to come out of his mouth would be absolute bullshit.

“Of course I’ve used a vibrator before, fishdick. Are you totally braindead? Would you just get on with it?”

You get on your feet immediately and strike him once across the face. 

“Ow! What the fuck!”

“Don’t talk to me like that, candyblood, or I’ll leave you here like this for the rest of the night,” you scold him, leaning in, your lips barely an inch away from his. That scowl on his face is really starting to piss you off. You take a fistful of his sweater and pull him into a kiss. It’s unpracticed, but the subtle biting and fighting for dominance with your tongues is what counts. You take a seat in his lap, his bulge getting to work on staining your outfit. You can live with dirtying up your shirt and pants, but you won’t let your cape get ruined. You unfasten its clip and toss it off into a corner, not breaking your kiss. Your bulge is already straining against the fabric of your pants, but you’ll live a little longer without stimulation. This isn’t about you, after all.

You reach between the two of you with practiced movements, taking hold of Karkat’s bulge at the base and running the vibrator up the length of it once, letting his tip wrap around the toy. 

“Fuck-” he gasps, breaking your kiss for only a moment before leaning back into it with more passion. You hate this troll. You can’t stand his company. You can’t stand the way he yells, you can’t stand the way he can’t ever seem to learn his place, and you can’t stand the way he’s bucking his hips up in time with your strokes of the vibrator up, down, up, then down again along his bulge after such a short amount of time. His ever-crescendoing moans make it near impossible to properly continue your kiss, so you opt to peck your way up to his ear instead, where you begin sucking and nibbling just hard enough to draw blood.

“It’s been, what, five minutes? Look at yourself, Kar, you’re a mess,” you tease up against his ear, adoring- no, despising- the way his bulge jumps in your hands when you talk dirty to him. Your shirts are both soaked in red tinted pre, his breath is coming heavier with each exhale, and you know he won’t last much longer. Not like this, at least.

“Karkat?” You inquire, and when you get no answer, you pull back to get a look at those closed eyes, that open mouth, lips swollen from minutes of nipping and sucking, and those furrowed brows, drawn together in pleasure, in wanting.

“Karkat,” you repeat yourself firmly and he opens his eyes only slightly, forcing his mouth shut (for once) and answering with a hum, “I hope you know you won’t be cumming until I say so.”

He whines at that, shutting his eyes and bucking his hips yet again, and you bring the vibrator up to the tip of his bulge, holding it there until his breathing picks up significantly and his grinding into your hands doesn’t seem to stop.

“Ah, b-bucket, bucket!” Karkat calls out, urgency in his tone.

You lift your hands and the vibrator away from his bulge immediately. At first he’s still thrusting up into what would’ve been the toy, but he catches on quickly with nary a moment of confusion and groans. He opens his mouth to protest, but when you run the toy up his bulge again, his words come out as a whimper, and you know he’s entirely yours to play with now. You’ve got Karkat Vantas on edge, and what a pretty sight it is.

You struggle to keep a straight face, and a steady breath, as the reality of the situation sets in and only serves to make the aching of your neglected nether regions just that much worse. You continue to keep him on edge until you think you can see tears forming in the corners of his eyes. 

You cup his cheek gently with one hand, keeping a harsh pace up with the toy in the other, the juxtaposition making him shake a little in your hold as you ask your question, “Alright there?” 

Karkat nods, sniffling as a tear rolls down his cheek.

“F…fuck you,” he struggles to speak the words, but they’re definitely there.

“I was thinking the same thing,” you respond, before shaking Karkat’s bulge, which is currently wrapped around the vibrator, off of it while you go to stand up. He whines at the loss, but the short lack of stimulation should only serve to make this last longer. Nevertheless, you try to be quick in stripping. 

You turn the toy off and drop it to the floor, your plans from now on won’t require its services anymore. You toss your pants and shirt off to the side and make sure you’re making eye contact with him while your last remaining article of clothing slides off slowly, revealing more and more of your completely unsheathed bulge until it’s fully in view and the underwear are around your ankles. You kick them off and sit back down in his lap, locking your lips onto his and letting your bugles entwine. 

He’s instantly grinding up against you, trying to get deeper, more passionate in your kiss. Your tongues are smooth against each other and the friction between the two of you is delightful. You wrap your arms around his back and pull him close so he’s flush with you, bucking up against him for about a minute until he’s breathing heavily into your kiss, lifting his hips up to meet your grinding, all around trying to get closer to you. 

“I won’t be untying you, if that’s what you’re playing for,” you berate, breathless.

Dramatic irony.

He nods, and it’s obvious he wasn’t listening. 

You manage to still yourself long enough to pull your bulges away from each other, an unsurprisingly difficult task. You lift yourself just slightly and position your nook over Karkat’s bulge. His eyes are trained on the naturally lubricated entrance hovering right there, nearly touching him, as if he’s worried this might not be real life. 

He’s never done this before, has he? You guess that makes two of you.

“Ready?” you ask, a little more eager than you mean to.

“Uh-huh.”

You sink down onto him, inch by inch, and it’s so good. So much. He tugs at the rope bonding his hands so hard that it scooches the chair, and you laugh a little, but it’s cut off by a groan when his hips twitch up at that perfect angle and the tip of his bulge brushes against that bit inside your nook that you’re never able to reach yourself. Your bulge thrashes and paints thin streaks of violet on Karkat’s shirt.

“Fuck, Kar- that’s, it’s,” you’re stuttering. For someone like him? “That’s actually, much better than I, than I thought it would be, isn’t it, oh-”

You start to move once you’re settled in his lap, grinding down on his bulge and drinking in the breathy whines dripping from his mouth. You’re mesmerized by the way he’s looking up at you, like you’re all he has eyes for, like you’re actually wanted, like he doesn’t think you’re absolutely worthless, and just that thought, sad as it may be, nearly tips you over the edge. You feel Karkat’s bulge twitch inside of you and he hums loudly to get your attention, as if he didn’t have every bit of it already. 

“Eridan,” He’s slurring his words ever so slightly and it absolutely enamours, no, fuck, enrages you, “Please?”

This is about hating each other, isn’t it?

He tugs at his bonds again. You understand immediately. In the heat of the moment, you nod and lean forward, wrapping your arms around the back of the chair and slicing the rope in two with a claw, freeing his hands. You bite his neck while you’re there, bringing your hands up to grip his shoulders, and his hands fly to your hips, latching onto either side, beginning to bounce you in his lap and thrusting up into you simultaneously to the rather hasty rhythm he’s picked out for himself.

“Vantas, don’t you dare fucking stop, it’s so good, you’re doing so good,” you tell him, and he groans, and with one, two, three more particularly hard thrusts, he’s releasing inside your nook, and you’re leaking out half a bucket’s worth of red genetic material. He’s moaning your name, chanting it like it’s sacred, and hearing him breathless for you pushes you over the edge as well. You spill purple all over him, your nook tightening and your knuckles white as they hold on to his shoulders for dear life. 

You each take a minute to catch your breath. The energy in the room calms, and you slump against the shorter troll, resting your head on his shoulder. After a minute, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close. He’s still stuffed inside of you, and it’s weird, but not so much that it stops your current train of thought, which was more of an off-the-rails jumble of 'Black? Red? Red? Black?' That you’re too high on the afterglow of your orgasm to sort out right now. It doesn’t matter when he’s holding you this gently. 

You just hope he attempts to correct you on more grammar errors in the future.


End file.
